


Restless

by FairTradeHoney



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:10:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairTradeHoney/pseuds/FairTradeHoney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S9 Canon Divergent</p><p>Cas makes it back to the bunker as a human. Dean reacts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restless

Gradually, unintentionally, Dean got into the habit of watching Cas sleep. It all started months ago, the night Cas first showed up at the bunker after The Fall.

The acute relief Dean felt at seeing Cas again had been short-lived. Almost immediately upon arrival, Cas had collapsed in the entryway of the bunker, wounded, dirty, and graceless. Making sure he was breathing, Dean gently lifted Cas from the cold floor, carrying him to one of the spare bedrooms. Afterward Dean had washed the grime from Cas’ face while he slept. Gently tracing a warm cloth across Cas’ temple, Dean had watched the tiny twitches of Cas’ eyelids and wondered what angel dreams—or former angel dreams?—were like. That night Dean had forgone his own rest, opting to sit at Cas’ bedside and make sure when he woke he wouldn’t be alone.

For the most part, after that first night Dean went back to his regular routine. He’d never been a heavy sleeper. Even in the bunker, which was more of a home for him than any other place, Dean would often wake in the night, restless. He’d make his way to the kitchen and, depending upon his mood, pour himself a glass of milk or whiskey, then wander the halls poking about the Men of Letters’ inexhaustible collection of relics. Over time he began to notice that the artifacts didn’t hold his attention like they used to. Instead, every night he’d creep quietly into Cas’ room. He never stayed very long. Waiting until his eyes adjusted to the dark, Dean would study the rise and fall of Cas’ chest and listen to the gentle sound of his breathing. Before long, assured Cas was safe, Dean would silently slink back to his own room.

One night Dean woke, not from restlessness, but the sound of screaming. Hastily, he bounded down the hall of the bunker to Cas’ room. Without a second thought he flung open the door to find Cas, still asleep, and ravaged by nightmares. Dean had roused him awake, gently cupping Cas’ face with his palm. Dean tried to pull him back to reality, to tell him it was all in his head, but Cas was having a hard time comprehending. 

That night Cas had been so shaken that Dean had crawled into bed with him. Dean wrapped his arm around Cas’ shoulders and Cas, still shaking, cradled his head to Dean’s chest. Dean ran his hands over the planes of Cas’ back, gently tracing the lines of his shoulder blades down to his waist and back up. He repeated this motion for several minutes, deftly, until Cas’ heartbeat slowed. Dean had tried to pull back then, but Cas had gripped his bicep and asked him to stay. Surprised by how happy the request made him, Dean shifted back wordlessly, simultaneously pulling Cas closer to him. Dean hands felt the rise and fall of Cas’ breathing from their position on his back. Eventually, the breaths came slower, more regularly, as Cas drifted off to sleep. That small, gentle motion was calming for Dean as well, and he felt himself become drowsy. As he started to doze, gazing down, he noted with mild bewilderment that Cas seemed smaller than he used to.

From them on, Cas came to Dean. Regularly over the next few weeks, Dean would wake in the night, roused by the shifting weight on the mattress as Cas crawled into the bed. Instinctively, Dean would pull Cas toward him, sometimes face-to-face, their chests pressed together, hearts beating in concert. Other times Cas would be the little spoon and Dean would bury his nose in Cas’ hair, breathing in his scent.

Eventually, they gave up on pretense altogether, so now Cas just heads to Dean’s room when it’s time for sleep. They curl themselves around each other, a jumble fingers and legs and lips and arms, unable to tell where one body ends and the other begins. Now, when Dean wakes in the night he stays put, finding his peace by memorizing the contours of Cas’ body, the tiny twitch his nose makes when he’s in a deep sleep, or the exact shape of the curl his hair makes at the back of his neck. He doesn’t feel the need to wander anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> **you can find me on tumblr as fairtradehoney**


End file.
